


Dali's attempt at Jangobi Week 2021

by DaliLunae359



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Competence Kink, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Everybody Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, Fix-It of Sorts, Freeform, Handcuffed, Hondo Ohnaka decided to make an appereance, I messed with the time line fight me, Jango is a Little Shit, Jango's questionable life choices, Jealous Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, Myles Quinlian Fennec Ahsoka and Fives showed up, Slow Dancing, Sorry if this feels rushed, The Force Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, Time Travel Fix-It, Undercover, Yayyy, a slow a painful death, ahhh some day I will finish my WIPs, because of course he would, but why do i always procastinate, dooku is an annoying grandpa, force ghost Jaster, forced to work together, jango is a man of many talents, murder child boba, no beta we die like palpatine should've, no you won't change my mind, obi-wan is too tired for this, please don't fight me, they would be such a badass team, this was fun to write, watch me try and fail to be concise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:34:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaliLunae359/pseuds/DaliLunae359
Summary: Two idiots that have minimal time together in canon but that- we have collectively decided- would've been amazing together.Some of these may be expanded in the future, others might be snippets from my WIPs  (Iwillwork on them at some point) and most if not all will be implied fix-its because I'm a sucker for happy endings.I hope whoever reads this will enjoy it! Happy Jangobi week!!
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 105
Kudos: 355
Collections: Jangobi Week





	1. Enemies to Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Day one.  
> I hope this doesn't feel too rushed. I had fun writing it and might expand this universe a little in the future.  
> Let me know what you think!!

Jango had been having a very shitty month, and it was all because of the damn redhead he’d just spotted exiting Hangar 3. Well, maybe not _everything_ was _ge’tal’ika_ ’s fault - the nearly hourly calls from Tyranus insisting on him arriving on Kamino as soon as possible were extremely irritating. Jango already had second thoughts about that job, if it weren’t for the promise of a son, he was pretty sure he would’ve already backed out; something about Tyranus didn't sit right with him, he was too shady… And, well, _Mando’ad draar digu_ , Jango would never forget the way his soul shattered as he watched his people be massacred, he _did_ want revenge on the Jedi, but a voice in the back of his head- a voice that sounded suspiciously like Jaster- whispered that maybe full scale genocide wasn’t really the answer. Jango ignored that voice and focused on his anger. 

The point, as it were, was that he could not punch his frustrations on Tyranus’ face. Firstly because he knew not where the creeper had vanished to at the moment, and secondly because he was a client and, well, Jaster had taught Jango better than that. Besides, Tyranus and his convoluted plots might have been an annoyance pulsing on the back of his mind, but he wasn’t half the headache this red-hed walking menace had proven himself to be over the last month.

It started on Zakuul. Jango had been chasing down bounty for weeks. Some _demagolka_ who had been trafficking with children. The bounty was set by an alliance of poor planets, desperate to protect their children from further kidnappings. It wasn’t a particularly hefty bounty, but Jango hated slavers, he hated any hut’uun lowlife willing to play with the lives of children and, -well,- Jango figured if he was about to unleash an army of clones of himself into the Galaxy -the thought made him grimace,- well he might as well rid the galaxy of other _shabuirs_ , to compensate an all that… And, he didn’t really need the money, not with the Kamino job.

Unfortunately, his prey had proven to be more sneaky than anticipated, and while Jango always enjoyed a challenge,- looked forward to them, really,- he drew the line on having to spend weeks trudgin on a swampy wasteland. He also had to forgo his armour and he hated that too, but after the first few days of natives trying to hire him, almost desperately, as a mercenary, he left it on his ship. It appeared the planet had been in some kind of petty civil war, an isurgence from rebels trying to take power, until recently, when the republic had (unsurprisingly) decided to meddle and had sent a _Jetii_ to try and negotiate peace. As if that wouldn’t just make things worse. Jango had seen _Jetii_ in action, had felt in his bones how they ‘settled peace’ and he pitied the native people that would suffer from the _Jetii_ intervention. The natives themselves seemed skeptical too. They claimed there was no way a compromise could be attained that would keep the two warring factions satisfied, and that even if a truce was established, the war would break out again within the week.

A rebel insurgence, the _Jetii_ … Jango distracted himself from the old ache in his chest, worsened by the painfully familiar circumstances, by concentrating on his prey. He blamed his increasingly grim mood on the planet’s horrible weather cycles.

To everyone’s surprise, the negotiations were settled in a mere couple of days, and when the terms were made public, every single being on the planet rejoiced and celebrated, even the weather got better. Jango paid little attention to all of it and just focused on his bounty. He tracked the _shabuir_ down, after days of trudging through muddy moorelands, to a tavern in a little, damaged, town near the capital city. Tired, filthy and with an ever growing headache that got worse with each extra moment he spent in Zakuul, Jango couldn’t suppress a groan when he saw a red-head, a _boy_ , escorting _his_ bounty out of the shitty establishment. Fortunately, Jango was a patient man, (at least when it came to his bounties). Zakuul was one of the planets that had set out the bounty for his prey, it had been very easy to kidnap their children with the war going on; the _shabuir_ must’ve thought no one would look for him on a planet he was notoriously wanted, and, to his credit, perhaps no one would’ve. Nobody but Jango, and- apparently,- the young red-head in a terrible poncho. Jango’s competitor would probably cash in the bounty in the bounty in the capital; that was good. It saved Jango the trouble of having to deal with a whiny prey all the way to the city. Jango was grateful, really. The red-head would do all the work and in the last moment Jango would attack. know him out and take his price.

Jango had not expected to wake up covered in mud, waist deep in the sludge of the swamp he had chosen to attack on. His whole body ached as if it had been run over by a speeder, repeatedly. Now, Jango did _not_ sulk, ever, but he’d been in that _ka’ra_ forsaken planet for too long, haunted by memories that brought too much pain and he hadn’t even gotten a handful of credits for his troubles. Instead he’d been attacked by a feral lothcat posing as a human being. In any other circumstances, Jango might’ve been more _appreciative_ of such fine fighting skills but he was tired and muddy and his comm had eight more messages from Tyranus demanding his presence on Kamino.

Bountyless, tired, annoyed, with his ego wounded, his soul’s old wounds reopening and still stinking- the stench of the swamp just wouldn’t go away) Jango did the only thing he could do. He set course for one of Gor Koresh’s fighting rings. He signed up to fight with some Ben who apparently dropped in from time to time, won a couple of fights, collected his money then left, much like Jango usually did. Jango almost felt sorry for the guy, he would beat him to the ground until the pain in his knuckles numbed away the ache in his chest and his headache. 

At the sight of Jango, the crowd cheered, he didn’t come often, but whenever he did he always put on a good show before, inevitably, winning. Jango almost stumbled on thin air, however, when he entered the ring and his opponent turned to meet his eyes. Ben was shirtless, sweaty, bloody and bruised from his last fight, but Jango easily recognized the feral lothcat of a boy that had stolen his bounty. Young man, rather; the harsh spotlights shining on Ben’s boyish features revealed a hardened maturity in the intensity of his grey-blue eyes. Ben must’ve recognised him too, for he graced Jango with a grin that tugged on his already broken lip.

“Here for a re-match?” Ben’s prim accent was tainted by a smugness Jango would thoroughly enjoy wiping from his unfairly attractive face.

Jango’s only answer was a snarl before he launched towards Ben. He did not pull his punches, he didn’t want to put on a show, he couldn’t have asked for a better punching bag than the man that had stolen his bounty and left him covered in mud on a swamp. 

Ben matched him punch for punch, blocking kicks and scoring his own few hits on Jango. But this time Jango knew to expect viciousness from Ben, and Jango could be every bit just as ruthless. The fight drew on for long, Jango was bulkier but Ben was deceitfully strong in his lean frame, Jango was fast but Ben was calculating and precise too. Jango felt himself get lost in the rhythm of it. It was the best spar he’d had in ages, since- Jango scored a good punch sending Ben to the ground and immediately jumped on the younger man to continue the fight where Jango would have a clear advantage. Later, Jango would blame his split-second hesitation on his anger and exhaustion making him sloppy, but, in truth, Ben’s ferocious grin, the tempest of determination in his grey-blue eyes, had stirred something within his chest. He’d thought he’d never seen such fire again, he’d thought it lost, extinguished when the last mandalorian hit died on Galidraan. _Jate Manda_. Before he could push away the fog of pain and memories, Ben locked a leg over his hip and turned them around, pinning Jango down in a hold that declared his victory.

Jango thought he heard Ben say something as he stumbled to his feet, but Jango’s ears were ringing with the sounds of other battles, the crowd’s cheers replaced by booming laughter and loyal cries of _‘Oya!’_ that painfully morphed into screams of confusion and frenzy as the voices that had one saved him, believed in him, trusted him, died, taking with them everything Jango had known. When Jango managed to shake himself back to his senses, the crowd was still roaring but there was no sign of Ben. Jango sneered, refusing any help to get up and stormed out of the building with every intention of finding Ben and killing him. How dare he bring back those memories to the surface. How dare he have something Jango had been ripped from? Ben was nowhere in sight. Jango’s body ached in a thousand places, the pounding headache only grew stronger and what was left of his souls was slowly bleeding out.

No, it hadn’t been a good month for Jango. After standing on the dark streets, cold and breaking, six more pings in his come from Tyranus breaking the silence of the night, Jago made his way back to his ship. He set course to Tatooine, making a few stops along the way to all the best cantina’s he knew, but in the end, no one had stronger booze than the Hutts and he needed his head to pound in hollowness and not pain. 

That is how, after a few weeks, Jango found himself in Tatooine’s hangars, booze-fuled anger boiling his blood as he watched Ben exit hangar 3. What was he doing there? Jango’s chest clenched but he pushed aside the swarm of memories he’d been trying to flee from for the past month and instead focused on his rage. Ben turned on the entrance to the hangar, shouting a few words to a woman in a red jumpsuit then crouched down to a little girl with a head of unruly curls and picked her up. Distantly, Jango noted how Ben stopped the girl from munching on dirty droid parts and then hand her to the woman he’d been talking too before fully exiting the hangar, but his vision turn red when he saw a flash of a lightsaber on Ben’s hip when the little girl kicked the man’s poncho out of the way. _Jetii_. Ben was a _Jetii_. Not content with tormenting his mind with memories, Ben was of the people that had stolen his from him. And he dared to harbor in his eyes. He’d stolen it from Jango and kept it to himself.

Jango felt the cold settling in his bones, granting him a clarity of mind the cheap bottle of _Ne’tra gal_ had clouded. He let his prey wander free off the hangars. First, he would ensure the Jetii wouldn’t escape him again. He marched up to hangar 3 to the ship and started rigging the small ship with explosives that would detonate on take off.

“Ben? You back already?” A woman’s voice called from the hangar’s office. “Did you forget something?”

The woman Ben had been talking too walked out, balancing the little girl on her hip. The toddler was munching on a name tag Jango thought read ‘Motto’. The woman froze when he saw him.

“Where did he go?” He asked, voice sounding gruff through his helmet.

“I don’t know.” To her credit, Motto’s voice didn’t tremble, even if she did hold the little girl closer to her.

Jango felt a rush of disgust shake his insides, was he really trying to intimidate an innocent woman and child? 

“Don’t let him take off if he comes back, I’ve rigged his ship to explode.” He said before hastily existing the Hangar.

He was feeling off-balance, it was Ben’s fault. His wrist comm ping-ed with another message from Tyranus. He pushed the thought of thousands of his clones enslaved to war without choice, of children being forced to grow up, of him selfishly asking for a family while refusing his echoes even the hopes for one. He had to find Ben, it was his fault, somehow it was all Ben’s fault. A _jetii_ that dared mock him, that- There. He spotted the redhead coming out of a junk shop and didn’t think, just raised his blaster and started shooting at him. Karking _Jettise_ and their Force, Ben drew his lightsaber, the buzzing bouncing off all edges of the void in his chest, and deflected every bolt. 

In a blur of motion he didn’t really quite recall, Jango had crossed the distance and was fully engaging the _jetii_ in a fight. Only the scared, pained boy of a child filtered through the ringing of his ears.

“Obi-wan!”

Ben jumped back, shooting a panicked glance to the entrance of the shop, where a woman was holding a squirming boy from stepping into their impromptu battle grounds.

“Anakin stay back!” With an acrobatic jump, Ben- Obi-wan, landed in front of the entrance to the shop, eyes focused on Jango.

Jango halted his attack, taken aback. There it was again, brewing like a storm in Obi-Wan’s eyes. _Mandokarla_. Instead of fueling his anger, the sight froze him. It couldn’t be. _Jettise_ were monsters, calculating, cold-hearted monsters, emotionless beasts that cared for no one or nothing outside their twisted morals. And yet, the man in front of him, breathing heavy, his cheek and the side of his chest grazed by Jango’s blaster bolts, exhaustion pouring out of his every pore and forehead swelling because of the bump Jango had managed to get close enough to score with his _buy’ce_ , stood between Jango and this woman and child, eyes alight with a fiery determination to _protect_. The child, Jango noted, sported the ridiculous braid _Jetii_ children wore, and held an obvious resemblance to the features of the woman behind him. She must’ve been the boy’s mother. Jango… Jango didn’t understand. _Jetiise_ didnt have families, how could they when they were so quick to strip others from their own. And yet…

_Manda chooses her children for a reason, Jango._ Jaster’s gruff voice was clear in his mind. _Manda unites us in our drive to fight for what we believe in, in one spirit, one indomitable heart. She leads us to each other, one way or another, so that we may be strong together. It doesn't matter where you came from, it doesn’t matter what your cause is. Manda chooses her children to be strong enough to look after one another. She chooses those strong enough to care._

It had been one of the first conversations he’d had with Jaster when he’d rescue Jango from a burning farm. Manda saw past race and origin, past hurt or comfort. Manda chose her children for a _reason_. And Manda had chosen a _Jetii_. A _Jetii_ that took bounties and fought with the fierceness of a nexu. A _Jetii_ that would bring one of his Order’s children back to his mother against his own teachings on attachment. A _Jetii_ that was willing to act as shield and bait to protect a child and his mother. 

_Manda brings us together, she doesn’t want her children to wander alone._

Jango lowered his blaster slowly. Manda might have her reasons, but Jango wanted _answers_.

“I want to talk.” He said lowering his blaster slowly.

Obi-wan scoffed, and he looked ready to spit a remark back at him but he must’ve recognised Jango’s voice, for he scanned him with assessing eyes.

“Naasade?” He barked out a laugh, shoulders still tense and holding his lightsaber firmly. “ _Gar cuyir dush nibral_.” 

Jango felt another rush of ice through his veins. The _Jetii_ spoke Mando’a with the same ease as he had taunted him in Basic in the fight ring. Just who exactly was this Obi-wan?

“I want to talk.” He repeated, because he didn’t really know what else to say. As a show of good faith, and even though his every instinct screamed at him for it, he holstered his blaster back on his hip. That got him a skeptical raised eyebrow for his troubles.

“I don’t even know who you are, you just attacked me in the streets and I’m supposed to trust you?” 

Right, if he knew Mando’a he probably had guessed Naasade wasn’t really his name. 

“My name is Jango Fett.” Obi-wan went still at his words, his eyes turning even sharper. So he recognized that name too, eh?

“And you expect me to talk to you now?”

“The fact that I’m even willing to talk to one of your kind,” he motioned to the still ignited lightsaber, “instead of continue to try and kill you, should be enough to prove my intentions.”

Another assessing look and the _Jetii_ powered down his weapon, even if he didn’t put it away. It was still enough for the boy- Anakin, Obi-Wan had called him,- to come charging to his back and hug him with enough strength to make Obi-wan slightly tumble forward, then peek from the side of Obi-wan to glare at Jango.

“What is it you want to talk about?”

***

They went back to Shmi’s, Anakin’s mother, house. It appeared she had some things to pack. Anakin was extremely reluctant and overprotective for a boy so small but Obi-wan appeased him a little with some talk about trusting the Force, and so Jango asked to talk about what Obi-wan had been doing on Zakuul, the fight rings and now on Tatooine. Obi-wan _had_ been the _Jetii_ that had settled peace in that muddy planet, that much he said straightforwardly, but he hesitated to answer the other questions. Both Anakin and his mother seemed horrified to hear about the bounty hunt and the fighting rings.

“A bounty? Is that why it took you so long to get back to the Temple?” Anakin asked, pouting.

“I- No, Anakin, the mission was estimated to last a month, I came back just as scheduled.” Obi-wan explained carefully, Anakin grumbled something very unflattering about schedules on Huttese and Shmi told him off for it. Obi-wan hesitated again before continuing. “Though I admit, since the matter Zakuul was settled rather quickly, I took the bounty.” He sighed. “And seeing as that was a quick hunt too, I spared a trip to one of Gor Koresh’s fighting rings.”

“Obi-wan, Gor Koresh’s fighting rings are extremely dangerous places.” Shmi admonished him in her quiet but stern way.

“Oh I know, Lady Skywalker.” He smiled shooting Jango a small glance. “But it needed to be done.” he shrugged.

“But, if you weren’t there for _Jetii_ business, and nor was the bounty part of the assignment, why did you take it? Why did you fight?” Jango asked again.

Obi-wan sighed, eyeing Jango suspiciously again before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Jango got the sense he was searching for something in that Force of his, whatever he found he mustn't have liked it much for he sighed again, resigned, before answering.

“I… needed the money.” He said, very pointedly avoiding looking at any of the Skywalkers, his grimace was almost imperceptible.

Jango could see the way realization took over Shmi’s features, followed by gratitude and surprise.

“But you said Jedi don’t need money, Obi-wan, or things like that ‘cause-” Anakin stopped in his tracks as realization struck him too. “Oh. You didn’t just free mom, you _bought_ her.”

Obi-wan flinched again, then turned to Shmi, his features soaking in guilt.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find another way.” 

Shmi just shook her head and embraced him, Obi-wan gasped a little, visibly taken aback by such reaction.

“Thank you.” Shmi said softly before releasing him. 

“I-” Obi-wan took a moment to visibly compose himself. “You don’t need to thank me, my Lady.”

It looked as if Obi-wan was about to say something else but a choked sob followed by Anakin crashing into his side again, effectively shut him up.

Jango watched the whole exchange feeling the both the void in his chest fade and his heart tighten. Obi-wan was _Mandokarla_ alright. _Manda chooses her children for a reason._

“Why would you want to know any of this anyway, Fett?” Obi-wan said after a beat, still a little weary of him despite what he’d told Anakin.

_Manda brings us together, she doesn’t want her children to wander alone._

“It’s not everyday someone beats me in a fight.” Jango answered with a shrug. He didn’t really understand the whirlwind of emotions inside his chest, he doubted he could explain them. “I rigged your ship to explode on take off. Very thoroughly.” He ignored the Skywalkers’ faces of incredulity and horror to instead focus his attention on Obi-wan’s roll of eyes and amused glint on his eyes. “I’ll give you a lift to wherever you need.”

Obi-wan studied him again. Jango felt the touch of his eyes as he scanned him, grey-blue screens intently searching and analyzing. Then he nodded slowly.

***

The humming buzz of the engine was the only sound in Slave I. Obi-wan, could not, and would not sleep in Jango Fett’s ship. He still wasn’t really sure why he’d accepted his offer in the first place, he was _the_ Jedi Killer, and even if Obi-wan couldn’t really blame him for reacting as he did before the massacre of his people, well... his hatred of the Jedi was legendary, and he was notoriously dangerous. And yet Obi-wan had gotten himself, his padawan and the boy’s mother into his grasp. He sighed, he really was quite tired. His body had been aching since his first fight with Jango in Zakuul, but if he was honest with himself, and these days he rarely allowed himself to be, he knew he’d been tired for too long now. Naboo was only the tip of the iceberg.

He sighed. Paying for a human life? Had he really fallen so low? He didn’t regret freeing Shmi, he only regretted not finding another way, he regretted not being able to do something earlier. And accepting Jango’s offer… That was a mess of its own. He’d sensed something was _strange_ about him ever since Zakuul. And then in the fight ring it had felt good to fight someone without having to hold back, someone that _could_ and _would_ beat him to the ground. Ever since Naboo, everyone in the temple treated him like he was about to break, like he was some precious crystal that would shatter at the first gust of wind. He knew they were just worried about him, but he was _fine_. He was tired, yes, and he knew he still had several… _things_ he should meditate on, but there were other things he had to do. And he could do them. He could be a good master to Anakin, he just… had to figure out how. But while fighting with Jango, none of that had mattered. It had been the best sparr of his life. Then the man shows up shooting at him like a madman in Tatooine, reveals himself as _the_ jedi killer and Obi-wan just rolled with it. Ah, what was he thinking? In his defense the Force had all but been screaming _CHANGETrustCHANGE_ in his mind since Jango had lowered the blaster, and still was. 

_Talk of the sith…_ Obi-wan sighed again as the man in question exited the cockpit and sat in front of him. He wasn’t wearing his _buy’ce_ anymore and Obi-wan studied his features, the cut in his cheek Obi-wan had caused a few weeks back had almost faded against his tan skin. Jango hadn’t said much more after they had boarded his ship, only asking where they wanted to go and grunting an affirmation when Obi-wan had answered with Naboo, but he’d kept his intense gaze fixed on Obi-wan. Obi-wan had noticed it, felt it even as he’d reassured Anakin and Shmi into resting for a while. Now that piercing amber gaze was fully fixed on him, without the filter of a _buy’ce_ and Obi-wan felt something inside him twist at the attention.

“You know Mando’a.” Obi-wan was pretty sure that wasn’t a question but he nodded anyway. “You freed you padawan’s mother from slavery.” Obi-wan nodded again. “Why now?”

Again, Obi-wan repressed a flinch. He hadn’t known at first, then Anakin had made an off hand comment about life as a slave and Obi-wan had almost dropped the mug of tea he’d been holding. He knew Qui-gon had had a tendency to 'omit' information, -it was Obi-wan that that redacted the mission reports more often than not, after all, - but still, he hadn’t expected he would miss mentioning something like _this_ … Regardless, it had taken being banned from too many cantines after scamming the patrons in sabacc for him to restore to fighting rings and bounties. That meant he had to be brutally efficient on his missions to spend time hunting down discreet bounties or making money in fights. And Obi-wan wasn't a good enough Jedi, so it wasn't often possible to do so.

“It took time to gather enough credits to change into wupiupi.” He shrugged. 

Jango grunted eyes still fixed on Obi-wan. What he was searching for, Obi-wan did not know, his only comfort was the Force whispering _calmtrustchange_ around him. Whatever Jango was about to say next, it was interrupted by a chime of the comm in his vambrace. Jango grunted annoyed, fiddling with it but then a metallic voice took over. SYSTEM OVERRIDE. Jango cursed and then a flickering hologram bursted from his wrist. 

Obi-wan’s eyes went wide as he recognized the figure of a man he had only heard whispers off, the voice matching that in most of Master Qui-gon’s voice messages his master had so often ignored. 

“You’ve been ignoring my calls, Fett.” Master Dooku’s voice was even colder than Obi-wan remembered. The Force seemed to stale, Obi-wan felt a chill run down his back.

“Get out of my communication systems, Tyranus.” Jango snapped back, obviously annoyed. 

“You have yet to report to Kamino, Fett.” Dooku carried on. “You do _not_ want to break our deal.”  
Jango glared at the hologram before nodding slowly. Obi-wan thought he looked almost resigned.

“I have to drop someone off first.” Jango said after a beat, sparing a quick glance in Obi-wan’s direction. “I’ll be there in a week.” Before Dooku could counter it, and he appeared very eager to do so, Jango disconnected his comm. Slumping slightly into his seat.

Obi-wan knew he shouldn’t ask, it really wasn’t his business, and he didn’t know where he stood with the jedi killer in front of him, Anakin and Shmi where resting somewhere in the ship and Obi-wan didn’t want to put them at any more risk, maybe he should wait until they reached Naboo but-

“You have dealings with Dooku?” The Force encouraged him once he’d realised what he’d said. Obi-wan gulped when those intense amber eyes focused back on him. “It’s not my business, I’m sorry, it’s just I thought, well, given the whole Galidraan fiasco, and it was truly horrible and I’m terribly sorry for all of it, but-” Oh no, he was rambling, rambling like newly elected padawan.

“That man wasn’t _Dooku_.” Jango said, spitting the name out with disgust. “His name is Tyranus, and he is a pain in my _shebs_.”

Obi-wan hesitated, but the Force encouraged him again.

“I don’t know what he calls himself these days, I haven’t really ever met him, but that man was ex Jedi Master Dooku.” Suddenly the space between them froze in tension. “He left the Order a couple of months ago.” Obi-wan added.

Obi-wan watched as a thousand emotions passed by Jango’s eyes, each adding fuel to the fire held within until they burned gold. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders had tensed as if in preparation for a fight.

“We need to talk.” His voice, cold and harsh as it was, sent a _very different_ type of shiver down Obi-wan’s spine. He blamed the heat running through his veins on his exhaustion.

***

Jango had never thought he would be _welcomed_ into the Jedi temple. But then again he hadn’t really imagined he would be going to _museum dates_ with his _Jetii boyfriend_ and yet their tickets were safely tucked away in his belt. 

It had been quite the hectic couple of years. Him and the ferocious redhead had joined forces to bring down Dooku and his Master who had turned out to be no other than the newly elected chancellor of the republic. Oh, how Jango hated politicians. It had been quite the scheme, they had played along long enough to capture Dooku and Jango had thoroughly enjoyed getting answers from the creeper. Following that, well Janago hadn’t really ever considered paperwork to be _attractive_ but Obi-wan had followed every trace Dooku had given them and then verbally bullied and eviscerated every half-wit politician in his way to uncover the full extent of Palapatine’s machinations. It seemed his _ge’tal’ika_ was deadly both in and out of the fight. Then the self-sacrificing _di’kut_ had almost gotten himself killed in the process of capturing the _shabuir_ , but with the help of other _Jettise_ they had managed to get the _dar’jetti_ frozen in carbonite- quite the creative solution from one Anakin Skywalker. And now, at long last, peace.

What had started as a reluctant working relationship had evolved into, well, _this_. Jango still resented the _Jetiise_ , and still thought most of them to be pompous bastards, but Obi-wan was different. Obi-wan radiated the warmth of _Manda_ Jango had thought long lost to him. Obi-wan had, without even trying, brought Jango back home, as close as he could ever be to the man he’d been before his world had fallen apart. Somehow, it seemed Jango had done something similar to Obi-wan. He’d seen with his own eyes how the man had slowly allowed the tempest he held in his eyes to translate into his every movement and word, how he held himself, every day a little straighter, a little more confident, until he became the personification of grace and power. If Jango had admired in their first encounters the man’s fierce determination, now he loved, with every ounce of his body, Obi-wan passion. And if that meant spending hours walking around in a museum because Obi-wan was passionate about history, then Jango be damned (and bored) but he would see to it. It had taken him so long to get Obi-wan to tell Jango about himself, about what _he_ liked, what _he_ wanted to do, Jango would make sure- now that he could finally convince Obi-wan the weight of the world didn’t rest on his shoulders- that his fiery _jetti_ could enjoy himself.

Speaking of which, Jango couldn’t repress a small smile as he saw Obi-wan walking down the halls, Anakin trailing behind with a scowl. As soon as he was close enough Jango pulled him in close for a Keldabe kiss, ignoring Anakin’s fake gagging sounds.

Obi-wan, laughed and pulled back.

“The boys?” He asked, peering behind him.

“I left them with Shmi already.” 

“Oh, that woman is too kind for her own good.” Obi-wan laughed again, shaking his head. 

Shmi really was; he loved his boys but they were a terror. To make time in order to capture Dooku, Jango had to agree to creating the first batch of clones as “test subjects”. It still made Jango feel disgusted at himself that he'd had, at one point, been okay with the whole process. Luckily after Dooku’s capture, Obi-wan and he had persuaded/intimidated the Kaminoans into stopping the fast aging and Jango was left with not one but six sons: Boba, Cody, Rex, Jaster, Myles and Jinn. And of course they all loved Obi-wan more than they loved him, even if Obi-wan denied it. It was terribly unfair, but the _Jetii had_ helped him name them, he’d even chosen the names of three of them, and something stirred within Jango whenever Obi-wan interacted with his boys- he hoped someday soon they would officially be _their_ boys. For this evening, however, he wanted Obi-wan to himself- much to Anakin’s very visible disgust and the Order’s general disapproval, but then again there were some things you could get away with after having defeated not one but _two_ sith lords, and it helped that every single _Jetii_ seemed to have a soft spot a parsec wide for Obi-wan (not like he could blame them), so things were playing nicely into Jango’s favour.

And so, after successfully saving the galaxy, the jedi and his own soul, Jango walked out of the temple of his once sworn enemies with the greatest of them all perched on his arm. He was pretty sure Jaster was laughing at his expense as he marched far away.

_Manda brings us together, she doesn’t want her children to wander alone._


	2. Time travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2!!!
> 
> Post ROTS Obi-wan accidentally time travels to AOTC Geonosis. (it took me ages to spell the damn planet.)
> 
> Featuring murder baby Boba and Jaster laughing at his son from the grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh!!! Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments on yesterday's prompt! They really cheered me up!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy today's too!

Obi-wan had, approximately, five minutes to adjust. 

His mind supplied him with all the horrors he’d witnessed in the past days: fighting Grievous, his men turning on him, falling to the abyss, the temple burning, bodies splayed on the floor, knights that had fought to their last breaths to protect the crèche, younglings staring lifelessly into nothing, Anakin’s betrayal, Anakin’s poisonous hate, Anakin burning and him just walking away… Padme’s death and the twins. Pure and bright and the only good thing left in a galaxy drowning in darkness. His chest had been tied in knots of aching pain and desperation, and his head pounding with grief and regret and he’d been staring at little Luke, so bright and innocent, clinging to his light, shielding him from all the twisting darkness, as he made the jump to Tatooine. He had made the jump. He’d punched in the coordinates and pulled the lever and- He was not on Tatooine. Nor was he on a ship of any kind but rather in a stinking sort of cave, the stench of oil and metal clinging to the air. He… couldn’t remember anything after the jump. Had their ship been assaulted by pirates? _Luke_. Where was Luke? What was going on? What- 

Oh.

_Oh._

The _Force_ … He tentatively stretched his senses into it. The Force was _lighter_. It wasn’t as bright as Obi-wan had known it to be oh so long ago during his time in the crèche, but it wasn’t the contorted contraption, bleeding in pain and drowning in darkness that he’d felt ever since Utapu. It was a little mudded, maybe even slightly injured, tainted with a regret Obi-wan knew well. _Anakin_. His heart twisted, it _was_ Anakin, he was sure, only his presence was as before the war had hardened him, before he had- It was _Anakin_ , not Vad-, not what he had become, it was _Anakin_.

Obi-wan stumbled out the little cave room he’d found himself in, he was in some sort of maze of tunnels. The rumbling of a machine and the familiar presence in the Force led him to the opening of a much more spacious cave, it appeared to be an underground factory. A _droid_ factory.

He spotted Anakin, Anakin with a _padawan braid_ , holding a faulty lightsaber in hand, and Padme-beautiful young and _alive_ ,- stumbling out of a large melting recipient. They were surrounded by droids in a matter of seconds and then Fett came down in his jetpack and forced their surrender. Obi-wan stood frozen as the droids escorted his padawan and his dear friend out, trying to make sense of what he’d just seen.

Was this a hallucination? A dream? Had he gone mad at long last? Had he died too? He noted, distantly, that he should probably try to breathe, but his chest felt heavy and hollow and his mind pulsed against his skull painfully, visions of all he’d lived through in the past weeks haunting the corners of his eyes. He really should be breathing. The Force wrapped itself around him, whispering encouragements, apologies and tentative hope; it did not, however, help him breathe. Obi-wan fell to his knees, panting, feeling his insides twist painfully and nausea rising. _Breathe_. If he hadn’t gone mad,- honestly, that was a completely valid explanation, he’d been seeing it coming for a while now,- and he was interpreting the Force’s whispers and his surroundings correctly: he was in Geonosis, three years ago, Anakin hadn’t fallen, the Jedi were alive, Ahsoka wasn’t lost to the galaxy and Palpatine’s plans hadn’t yet destroyed everything he knew and love. Before he could even register it, he barked out a dry spit of laughter. It was eloquently followed by a string of insults that would’ve made Quinlian cry and Dex proud. And then his five minutes were up as Fett, who’d remained surveying the area, zeroed in on him. 

With a flash of his jetpack, Obi-wan found himself with a handful of a very-determined-to-kill-him Manadalorian. On the brightside, the pain of the beskar clad punch to his cheek, reassured him he was not, in fact, dreaming; the pain was too sharp to be a hallucination, Obi-wan _would know_. So he really had time-travelled, huh? He dodged another punch and with a kick threw Fett’s blaster out of the man’s grasp.

Obi-wan felt the bone deep exhaustion be replaced with the thrill of the fight, his soul’s pains numbing into single handed determination. He now had a chance to stop the events that had destroyed the galaxy from happening, he had to save Anakin and destroy Sidious, he had to protect Quinlian and Depa and Ahsoka and the clones, he had to prevent the fall of Mandalore, the collapse of the Republic and the massacre of the Jedi. And he _would_. But first he had to survive yet another fight against Jango _kriffing_ Fett, the one man that had killed _six_ jedi with his bare hands. Just in lane with Obi-wan’s karking usual luck.

The man was vicious and fast, and they were fighting in too close quarters for Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to be of any use. Obi-wan doubted his knuckles would survive a hand-to-hand fight with a figure clad in beskar so that left only one option. Charm your enemy into confusion or your side. _Force_ , Obi-wan was _so tired_.

***

Jango cursed behind his _buy’ce_ , the _jetii_ was ridiculously fast and vicious. He fought with a desperation that bordered on maniacal. And then, in an _impressive_ show of skill and agility, the jetti kicked Jango’s buy’ce off then tackled Jango, pushing himself off the wall in a jump, and using the momentum to knock Jango to the floor. In a matter of seconds, the jetii was on top of him, straddling his lap, pressing his thighs with such strength Jango could barely squirm his legs, and pinning his arms at each side of his face with an iron grip. _Ka’ra_ but this man was far stronger than he looked like.

“We really should stop meeting like this, don’t you think?” The _jetti_ said, panting, a single stray lock of copper hair falling over his grey-blue eyes. Eyes Jango had seen before. He would never spare much thought for any _jetii_ , but it was difficult to forget eyes that had raged with a tempest akin to the worst storms of Kamino.

“How did you escape?” He grunted as he struggled against the _jetti_ ’s- Kenobi, he’d said his name was, right?- hold. Jango had thought him dead by the sonic charges but had been proven wrong when he’d seen the man almost succeed at escaping the Geonosian’s as they fired a rain of stun bolts at him. Jango had begrudgingly admitted to himself the whole spectacle had been _mildly_ impressive.

“I didn’t escape. You think I had time for a change in look while I was at it?” Only then did Jango pry his eyes from Kenobi’s to fully examine the _Jetii_. He did look different, his hair was shorter, hints of silver at the roots and heavy bags under his eyes betrayed exhaustion and grief. Looking back into Kenobi’s eyes he saw a change in them too. The storm was still raging in the endless, blue-gray expanse, but there was something else. Something Jango painfully recognised. Guilt, desperation and loss beyond what any soul should ever suffer. He recognised the scars in those eyes, scars of having suddenly and impotently lost everything that had ever held any importance.

“Who are you?” He asked, dumbfounded, halting his struggle.

Before the _Jetii_ could answer, however, the tell-tale sound of a blaster charging up made them both whip their heads towards the neck of the tunnel. 

“Get off my dad.” Jango felt a surge of pride bloom in his chest at the sight of Boba, tightly holding one of the blaster pistols Jango had gotten him for his 10th birthday, walking steadily towards them.

“Boba don't come closer.” He didn’t want his boy anywhere near the _Jetii_ ’s range. His son did as he sayed, pistol still trained on the _jetii_. Jango turned his attention back to the man on top of him, and though he hid it well, Jango saw a flash of pain cross his features as he shifted his eyes back and forth between Jango and Boba, before finally focusing on Jango.

“I will let you go, as requested.” Kenobi spoked carefully. “But you will listen to what I have to say.” Again, desperation tinged his eyes.

“The kid’s got a blaster trained on you _jetii_ , you are hardly in a position to negotiate.” Jango thought Kenobi repressed a flinch at his words.

“You _will_ listen to me.” He said again. “Or else your son will be forced to grow up alone, without a father to guide him or a single soul to fight in his corner.” Jango would've growled at the threat, but it hadn’t been such. No, Kenobi’s words weren’t harsh arrogant threats, his tone was firm, but the plea was tangible in the intensity of his eyes. He fully believed what he’d said would come to be, and he _dreaded_ it.

Who was this _jetii_? Kenobi? But not really, how could someone change so quickly? Why would a _jetii_ care for the fate of the child of the man who’d been trying to kill him just moments prior? Why did he hold in his eyes a pain Jango knew too well?

Jango nodded slowly.

***

It was quite a fascinating experience to see one self tied to a pole, about to be sentenced to death, from an outside perspective. Obi-wan watched as Anakin said something to his younger self in the arena before switching his gaze to stare longingly at Padme. He saw his younger self roll his eyes at his padawan’s obvious crush and felt for him, well… for himself? Obi-wan was way too tired to deal with all of this, he already felt a headache growing at the back of his head. But Fett had asked to see proof that he was from the future, and well, narrating events before they came to be exactly as he recounted did the trick nicely. 

His original plan, rushed as it had been elaborated, had been to get rid of Fett one way or another and then free his younger self, Anakin and Padme and then hijack a ship get off planet and comm the council on their way- if they could manage to bomb the factories into oblivion on their way out that would’ve been a plus. It had been, he now realised, more wistful thinking than an actual plan. The jedi were probably already too close; communications would’ve been shut down so that the Genoisan radars wouldn’t notice them and even if they weren’t Obi-wan couldn’t remember the blasted code of authentication for that particular day- they’d changed them all once the war had begun. And how would he even explain to his younger self this whole fiasco he’d found himself in? And _Anakin. Force_ , the mere sight of him in the arena twisted his insides, could he even face him so soon after- He knew _this_ Anakin hadn’t fallen yet- _wouldn’t_ fall if Obi-wan could help it,- but the memory of what he’d become carved into his heart every time he looked at him, surroundings fading into fire and smoke and screams of hate and pain. Obi-wan had _abandoned_ him. He’d failed Anakin, he’d hurt him, and he had _abandoned_ him to flames and pain and such poisonous _hate_. Obi-wan would make it right. He wouldn’t let Anakin down again, he wouldn’t let him fall. But he couldn’t face him. Not yet. It was cowardly and selfish, but Obi-wan didn’t think he had the strength to do anything else. The Force swirled around him comfortingly and he allowed himself to drift- he didn’t deserve it, this peace, this calm-

“Okay, I’ve seen enough.” Fett’s voice brought him back. “And you say I’ll die down there.”

Obi-wan nodded, feeling too drained to do anything else. Fett was a whole problem on it’s own. His original plan had involved only escaping him. But then he’d seen Boba. They hadn’t interacted much, but Obi-wan had been there when Plo, always so steady and warm and caring, had come to share his troubles and concerns about the boy with Obi-wan. Obi-wan didn’t know why Plo would come to him of all people, but still he’d tried to comfort his friend as best he could. They’d both agreed sending the boy to an adult prison was _wrong_ , but the senate had signed off the sentence, only seeing a particularly stubborn and aggressive clone. As if the clones hadn’t deserved better too. But the point was, well, Obi-wan already had a mighty big list of people he had to save, why not add two more. The Force had swirled around him in encouragement at the thought. And, well, Fett could be a very powerful ally. Especially if Obi-wan really did forgo the Council for his crazy, self-imposed mission. 

It was not out of arrogance or distrust that he had decided he would remain in the shadows, away from other jedi, for as long as he could, it was just more practical to do so. The jedi had to report back to the Senate, and Palpatine had had his gaze fixed on their every move. It terrorized Obi-wan to his very core to attempt all this alone, he felt unfit beyond reason, he’d _failed_ so spectacularly without even realizing until it had been too late. But if Fett joined him… If Fett joined him Obi-wan would have a brutally efficient, renowned strategist and warrior by his side. He’d seen the intensity of Fett’s amber eyes, a roaring fire flickering gold. If Obi-wan could re-direct such raw power to his cause... then maybe he and the galaxy had a chance. 

He took the shiver running down his spine as Fett’s intense stare focused back on him as a reassurance from the Force, and then frowned slightly as the Force danced, amused, between them. 

“Yes.” He answered simply.

Fett nodded, slowly. Obi-wan kept his eyes fixed on him and pretended not to notice how Boba’s scowl suddenly became a distraught expression, a pained gasp escaping his lips as he shifted closer to his father. Fett _did_ react, gathering the boy close to his side before focusing back on Obi-wan.

“My contract with Dooku ended the moment you found the clones.” Fett said after a beat. “I have been planning how to kill him ever since I discovered his real identity.” He frowned in disgust and hatred at the thought. Obi-wan had always felt what had happened in Galidraan had been one of the Order’s greatest failures. If he’d learned of the incident while still on Meida/Daan, before returning to the temple… As fiery and self-righteous as he’d been back then, he doesn’t think he would’ve come back as desperately as he had. Now, after his own family had been tricked and exterminated by what he suspected were similar powers, well… Now, Obi-wan _understood_ , and oh, how he selfishly wished he didn’t. “If what you say is true,” he paused, his gaze impossibly becoming even more intense as he searched for something within Obi-wan’s own eyes. It made Obi-wan want to squirm, to look away, and to step closer all at once. “And crazy as it all sounds, I believe you, killing him won’t be too easy, and he is only a pawn in a much larger game.” Obi-wan nodded again.

“Would you care to join forces?” Obi-wan attempted a half smile, the motion only coming to him for how familiar the gesture was.

Fett gave him another assessing look.

“Why shouldn’t I just leave? What do I care if the galaxy tears itself apart?” Obi-wan saw through the questions. Fett already _was_ considering helping him, the questions must’ve been some kind of test for Obi-wan.

Obi-wan suppressed a groan. He was too tired for this. Why would anyone care if the galaxy burned, enslaved and helpless and dark and cold? Why would anyone care for the death of the Jedi, who should’ve done more? For the children whose only crime had been to be given up for their abilities? What would any of that mean to a mercenary, a bounty hunter, heartless enough to willingly create thousands of sentient beings to be sent to die without losing sleep? But the man in front of him had been a Mandalorian once, even if just the armour remained as the shadow of the ideals he’d once withheld. Ideals sworn to unite people, no matter origin or race, under an honorable cause. Ideals that valued life and children above everything. Ideals that encouraged valor, honor and the strength to stand and fight instead of flee in the face of danger, no matter the odds. 

“Because your son lives in it.” Obi-wan answered, staring right back at him. “And because _mando’ad draar digu._ ” He added after a beat. “And no Mando’ad worth the title would so easily forget the Way and forsake his own _Mandokarla_.”

He found himself being pushed against the wall, Fett growling as he pinned his arms above him.

“What do you know about _Mandokarla, Jetii._ ” Fett spat, eyes blazing so close, Obi-wan thought, for a moment, he’d burn.

Obi-wan didn’t answer, instead just held Fett’s eyes feeling the Force singing around them, ignoring the heavy tension. Fett was a dangerous man, but Obi-wan _would not_ fall at his hand, he’d been through too much, his blood was boiling with too much urgency to act, _to make things right_ , for him to allow just one man stand in his way. If Fett joined him, then great; if not, well then Obi-wan would walk out of Geonosis and save the damn galaxy one way or another.

***

Jango could almost hear Jaster laughing at him. _Ka’ra_ , how had any of this happened? It was like a convoluted plot of some shitty holonovel: one of your sworn enemies got catapulted by time and saved you and your son while asking for your help to save the karking galaxy. And, of course, because it was a shitty holonovel, Jango had to go and catch feelings. Jaster had definitely busted a lung laughing at him from wherever he was marching away, Jango could practically feel his _buir_ ’s snikers. 

Jango be damned, but it’d just all been so easy. Obi-wan had a fire within that Jango had thought was long lost to him. If Obi-wan, after losing everything and anyone, was so determined to stand and fight, what did that make Jango? Jango, who had instead drowned in his own misery and shame, letting rage, hatred and revenge consume him to the point he was willing to send thousands of his own flesh and blood (literally) to die for the _complete extermination of the jetii_. Jango, like every Mando’ad, had never been too keen on the pompous space wizards, and after Galidraan his hatred for them had reached astronomical levels, but to massacre _children_? Doctors, teachers, archivists, only for their faith? That was not the way, that was _wrong_. It had taken Obi-wan for him to see it. 

It appeared Tyranus- _Dooku_ \- had done something to his mind on their first encounter to fuel his anger and hatred and make him overlook _that_ part of the whole plot. _Oh_ , how Jango was going to enjoy killing the bastard. But Obi-wan had noticed pretty early on, apparently he'd sensed some sort of ‘darkness’, and had offered to eliminate the convulsion. It was like a gundark had been chewing at his heart without him even noticing and now finally he was free. He was still angry, and he suspected he would never be rid of the grief, but he knew now how twisted his thoughts had been.

But more than that, it had taken Obi-wan, a _jetii_ , an _arueti_ , for him to feel the spirit of Manda again. The warmth, the passion, the drive to act, to be, to live, to have a _purpose_. Obi-wan had reminded him of the meaning of the vows he’d once taken, the meaning of _Mandokarla_. Jango be damned if the crazy _di’kut_ wasn’t the embodiment of _Mandokarla_ itself. It had just been so easy to fall for Obi-wan. 

What had started as a night of passion born out of desperation, fear and loneliness, had slowly, tentatively, blossomed into more. It was in the way Obi-wan spoke, tempest raging in his eyes, everytime he explained his crazy plans to save the galaxy. It was in the way he set his jaw and how his eyebrow twitched as he stared at his datapad, trying to decipher schemes and expose evil plots. It was in the way his eyes glinted with amusement every time he managed to get Jango riled up and annoyed. It was in the way he fought, fearless and unstoppable and yet alway keeping an eye out, monitoring Jango’s own movements, handing him enemy weapons when his own faltered, watching his back. It was in the way he interacted with Boba, playful and patient and reassuring. 

Jango could _swear_ Jaster had somehow managed to come back from the dead to torment him because that was definitely his laughter that was rumbling at the back of his mind as he watched, heart swelling with affection, how Obi-wan ruffled Boba’s curls and his boy giggled in return. Jango must’ve made some sort of sound for suddenly he had the attention of two pairs of very amused eyes on him. Obi-wan raised an eyebrow at him and he just shook his head in response, coming to sit beside him, depositing a cup of tea in front of him. Jango couldn’t suppress a fond smile at the little please sound Obi-wan made as he took a sip of his drink. He pulled the man close and rested his forehead against his temple, enjoying Obi-wan’s little gasp and Boba’s rumbling and disgusted complaint. 

Obi-wan wasn’t quite on the same page as him yet. The man was incredibly stubborn and seemed determinately reluctant to believe someone would _care_ for him. Yet another thing that did not speak well of the _jetiise_ for Jango’s good opinion, but Jango didn’t care. Obi-wan had given him back a part of himself, he’d given Jango a purpose, and at some point he’d _become_ Jango’s purpose. Jango would wait as long as it took to make him understand just how much he’d captivated him, how much he’d come to love him. Jango had to repress the instinct to whip his head back, that had _definetly_ been a snort from Jaster. Regardless, Jango knew there was still a long road ahead of him. Obi-wan wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted, much less persuaded, until he was sure the galaxy was safe,- just another reason to end the kriffing _dar’jetti_ ,- and Jango was a patient man. Kark, why did he keep hearing Jaster mocking him in the back of his mind? Okay, _fine_ , Jango wasn’t a particularly patient man, he wanted to walk up to the karking chancellor, but a blaster bolt through his brains and be done with it. He’d suggested as much and had been regaled with a sputtering, horrified, alarmed and worried Obi-wan. He’d conceded, after messing with his _jetii_ for a while, that Obi-wan’s was the better plan.

And, after over a year, things were finally coming to their final stage. Jango was not looking forward to secretly meeting with a gang of jetiise, but he trusted Obi-wan. And he would do anything to finally have his boy and his _jetii_ safe and by his side.

_Kark, Jaster!_ Jango was _not_ becoming a sap, damn it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fellas, is it gay to get lost in your enemy’s/ally’s eyes?
> 
> I like to believe Force ghost Jaster is cannon and enjoys annoying his little shit of an ad, fight me. (please don't)
> 
> I will probably continue this story on day 7 (happy ending) and if the concept keeps nagging at my mind I might expand it into a full short fic with the whole slow burn and bonding over trauma business cause I'm a sucker for that shit.
> 
> Anyway, day two done! Hope you liked it, let me know what you think!!


	3. Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3!!
> 
> Obi-wan has to go undercover. He _hates_ going undercover for one very specific reason.
> 
> Jango loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a sloppy make-out in this one... I don't know how that turned out. 
> 
> Anyway this was inspired by a joe x nicky The Old Guard fanfic that I read ages ago but that I can't for the life of me remember the title of, I'm sorry :(
> 
> Enjoy!!

Obi-wan took a long gulp of his drink, slowly breathed in deeply and exhaled.

“No.” He said staring at Quinlan right in the eye.

“What do you mean, _no_?” 

“What I mean is: _no_.” He answered, taking another, controlled, sip.

“Obes, we _need him_.”

“No, we _don’t_ , Quinlan.”

Ahsoka and Fives traded confused glances, they were both very new to the team, and neither understood what Quinlan and Obi-wan were arguing about. Ahsoka had been found and accepted into their ranks just over a month prior, after Anakin had commed his mother in desperation, begging them to take care of his padawan, and a few weeks later, when they had gotten word of a clone gone rogue and screaming conspiracy theories, they had immediately tracked down and rescued Fives before the Coruscant guard could get to him. The former Jedi-padawan and the ex-arc-trooper were extremely grateful to Obi-wan, Quinlan, Fennec, Myles, Jango and Shmi for taking them in… but they were still a bit confused about what was their place and _what_ exactly it was that this team _did_.

Ahsoka knew that, at some point, Obi-wan and Quinlan had been Jedi too, both hid lightsabers amidst their wide range of weapons and she was pretty sure Obi-wan was the lost padawan her grandmaster lamented so frequently. Obi-wan, as far as she had gathered, was the original member, the pillar on which the Team stood. It was for him that Quinlan had left the Jedi, but why or when Obi-wan had left, Ahsoka didn’t know yet. The two of them had since travelled the galaxy, taking jobs that ranged from hostage retrievals to law counselling to simple bodyguard duty. At some point they had  
rescued Myles and Jango from an ambush and the two Mandalorians -the last of their clan,- had joined them too. The four of them had stumbled upon Fennec soon after, and the young street urchin had stuck to them after trying to, and almost succeeded at, stealing their weapons and their ship. And finally, Anakin and Shmi, who had been freed by the team, and though Anakin had joined the Jedi Order, Shmi had remained with them. 

Ahsoka knew the Team, Obi-wan most notoriously, had also been involved in the Naboo crisis; it was a sore topic for the most proud members of the Order that the one to defeat a Sith after a millenia had been an ex-padawan, and they all whispered perhaps Obi-wan himself had fallen. But so far as Ahsoka could see, everything Obi-wan did, everything he led his team to do, was to _uncover_ the mystery of the Sith. She hadn’t known the man for long, and she honestly didn’t understand half of his plans,- why would he allow Jango to become the template of the clone army?- especially the ones concerning political schemes,- why would the dark lord of the Sith care about _accounting_?- but his intentions were clear, his determination bordering on obsession within the intensity of his eyes. 

Yet, for all his passion was the lifeblood of the team, and the fact they all looked up to him, Obi-wan rejected the notion of being their leader with much of the same stubborn determination,- he’d grimaced when Fives had jokingly addressed him as General,- and all missions were discussed and constructed as a team discussion. That led to very frequent arguments, and for people that had worked and lived together for so long, that meant they often didn’t even have to voice what their thoughts were before someone already had a rebuttal prepared. It was very difficult for Ahsoka and Fives to keep up when arguments such as this broke out.

“Wait, guys, I’m lost, who are we talking about?” Ahsoka dared to ask.

Shmi sent her a sympathetic look.

“ _Ben_.” Jango answered, before Shmi could. Voice smug and smirking as he fixed his eyes on Obi-wan, throwing his arm around the back of the man’s seat on the couch. His smirk only grew as Obi-wan pointedly glared at him, then turned back to Quinlan with an indignant scoff.

“That really doesn’t make it any clearer.” Fives piped in.

“It doesn’t matter, because we are _not_ bringing _Ben_ into this.” Obi-wan said again, voice turning stern.

“Obes… you wouldn’t even have considered it if you didn’t also think it’s the only way.” Quinlan spoke more softly this time.

Ahsoka shifted her gaze between them, trying to decipher what the silent conversation they were having with their eyes meant. After a few moments of tense silence Obi-wan seemed to physically deflate on his seat. Jango immediately, and with a gentleness Ahsoka was still surprised to see from the fearsome mandalorian, started threading his fingers through Obi-wan’s copper hair. Ahsoka saw how Obi-wan leaned into the touch for a few long seconds before sighing and standing up.

“Give me fifteen minutes, be ready to leave in half an hour.” he said, turning to make his way to his quarters on the ship.

“I can’t wait.” Jango smirked again, leaning forward on the couch.

Obi-wan froze at the exit of the living quarters and turned to throw an icy glare at Jango, shoulders tense and features stone cold.

“You are on thin fucking ice, _Fett._ ” 

Well, that was new. Ahsoka turned to find Fives frowning in confusion too. They hadn’t been with the Team for long but it had been rather obvious that Obi-wan and the mandalorian were… _close_. Ahsoka had even found herself blushing at the simple intimacy they shared: Jango resting his head on Obi-wan’s lap as the ex-Jedi mulled over his datapads and plans, Obi-wan clinging onto Jango as the mandalorian made dinner, they were the only ones in the ship to share a bunk, even their bickering was often good-natured and playful. So to hear such ice in Obi-wan’s voice, especially when the man was so oftenly soft-spoken, and for it to be aimed at Jango, who he had been leaning on not five minutes ago… well, Ahsoka might have misread their relationship, but still…

“If you say so, _cyare_.” Jango answered, voice lewd.

Obi-wan frowned and turned around. “You are sleeping on the couch tonight!” He shouted back at them as he left.

The moment he was out the door, Jango leaned back on the couch laughing. Shmi swatted at his shoulder and he regained some semblance of composure. Myles just snorted, shaking his head, Quinlan and Fennec tried, and failed, to stifle their snickers.

“Guys.. we are still lost here.” Fives said, frowning in confusion.

“Who is this Ben guy, and why do we need him, and will he be able to be here at such short notice, and why is Obi-wan so mad about it?”

“Hey, breathe, kid.” Myles said, squeezing her shoulder gently.

“We just received intel Mas Amedda’s planned distraction won’t be able to make it.” Fennec started explaining. “If Amedda shows up and nothing catches his eye, he will go back to his office and that means…”

“We won’t be able to get the evidence we need to prove Palpatine is behind the war.” Fives nodded along.

“Now, Amedda is very particular about his choices.” Quinlan said, visibly disgusted. “The poor boy he usually amuses himself with, and who’d agreed to help us, has fallen sick. Nothing too bad, but he won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“So this Ben is going to stand in?” Fives asked

“As Quinlan said, the pervert is ridiculously specific about what he likes. It would be impossible to find someone to appease him at such short notice, and we have to break into his office _tonight_ , while the Guard is distracted with the gala. Otherwise we would have to wait another _month_ , and this war has already stretched out for far too long. We have to act while the trail you uncovered, Fives, is still fresh.” Myles sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Which is why we need Ben.”

Quinlan snorted. “If someone is able to by-pass all preferences and reasons and maneuver anyone into whatever they want, that’s Ben. He will keep the Vice-Chair entertained while we carry out the mission.”

Ahsoka nodded slowly. “Alright… But if Ben is going to help us, why doesn’t Obi-wan like him?”

Jango snorted, smile turning smug again.

“Ahsoka,” Shmi called for her attention. “Obi-wan _is_ Ben.” That… didn’t make any sense. 

“Ben is an alter-ego he uses for undercover missions.” Quinlan supplied. “The idiot’s been using the same alias for as long as I’ve known him, but it hasn’t caused us any trouble yet.” He shrugged.

“...but that doesn’t explain why he is so mad about it?” Ahsoka tried again.

They all turned their gazes to Jango, who was about to start laughing again.

“Kid, he’s jealous.” Jango grinned, chuckling.

“Jealous?” Five asked, visibly lost.

Myles sighed dramatically.

“Jango and Obi-wan had been practically attached by the hip ever since they first tried to kill each other after we met.”

“They what?!” Ahsoka exclaimed, horrified.

“It was a group of Jedi that ambushed us. Quinlan and Obi-wan managed to save us but the Jedi still killed the rest of our people. When Obi-wan let it drop he and Quinlan had been Jedi themselves… Well, Jango didn’t take well.”

Fennec snorted. “He never takes anything well.” 

“Brat.” Jango muttered, kicking her legs off the table.

“The point is, they’ve been together for over twenty years.” Myles continues, ignoring the other two. “No breaks, no significant fights. They only have eyes for each other and the only time they’ve been apart it’s been when a mission required it, like when Jango took the Kamino job.”

“It’s disgusting.” Fennec said, rolling her eyes.

“I think it’s inspiring that two young people could forge such a bond.” Shmi smiled.

“Ben is the only person on earth Obi-wan has ever been jealous of.” Myles shrugged.

“But why? It doesn’t make any sense?”

“Because Jango has a crush on Ben.” Fennec snorted again, but Jango didn’t deny it.

He only laid back on the couch, eyes eager and smile smug. _Force_ , but these people were weird.

****

Jango took a moment to just stand back and admire the view. It had been far too long since the last undercover mission that had required Obi-wan to become Ben. Jango had _missed_ it. Missed the way Obi-wan’s graceful movements became lazy and sultry when Ben took over. The way Ben’s eyes were bored and judgemental in a way Obi-wan’s too-kind soul would never allow himself to be. And Ben’s _wardrobe_. The way Ben’s pants hugged his legs, perfectly defining powerful thighs, the freckled shoulders framed by blue silk, teasing more bare skin with every little shift… The beard was gone too. Now, Jango had come to _really_ appreciate that beard, but he had missed those dimples. _Ka’ra_ , Obi-wan was beautiful. 

A red beam of light flashing in his eye forced him to look away. He turned with a scowl to the window of the building nearby where Shmi was standing guard with her sniper rifle- Fennec had complained endlessly about not being on sniper duty, but they need her to slice the code into Amedda's office. Snmi had signaled the beam at his lapel a few moments ago to let him know the retrieval had been completed and that he could collect Ben and leave, but Jango had gotten,- understandably,- distracted. Another flash in his eye and he was signally as furiously and as subtly as he could that he’d gotten the message.

He sighed, readjusting his fake clone officer uniform and started walking towards where Ben was leaning on the bar, one passed out Vice-Chair of the Republic muttering lewd comments drunkenly in his sleep. All good things came to an end, but maybe he could still make the most out of Ben, and, even better, jealous Obi-wan.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He said, leaning close to Ben, unabashedly running his eyes up and down his figure.

Ben just raised an unimpressed eyebrow while gulping down the rest of the drink he already had in hand.

“I’m busy.” He replied lazily, _bored_ , casting a disappointing glance at Amedda’s drowsing figure.

“I think you and I both know you can do better than him.”

The glint in Obi-wan’s eyes let him know he had understood their mission was over, but he remained in character, playing along. He cast Jango a slow, assessing look, eyes hooded, the corner of his lip twitching into an alluring smile. They were both professionals, while they were on a job only the mission mattered. The mission had ended ten minutes ago.

One moment they were in a slowly emptying party, the next Jango was pressed against a wall of a secluded corridor, one of Obi-wan’s thighs pressing between his legs as they devoured each other fiercely. It was good to be reassured he was not the only one who’d been on edge all evening,- it was an incredibly arousing experience to watch Obi-wan toy around with politicians, riling them up and verbally eviscerating them while smiling politely and playing naïve,- and while Jango had known Obi-wan liked uniforms, well... it was one thing to _know_ and one very different thing to _feel_ just how much Obi-wan liked _him_ wearing a uniform.

Jango let out a small gasp as Obi-wan pressed in closer, lips leaving his to mark a trail of kisses and bites down his throat.

“What happened to me sleeping on the couch tonight?” He managed to pant out between gasps.

Obi-wan pinched the side of his hip, pressing his thigh a little harder against Jango.

“Would you rather I stop, my dear?” He asked in his disgustingly prim accent, as if he was asking for the time, against his ear. It sent a chill down Jango’s spine. 

It was ridiculously unfair how this man could act so casual and unbothered when Jango was desperately grasping the last strands of his self control not to rut against Obi-wan’s thigh. Jango would have his revenge.

“Don’t you dare.” He gasped, and Obi-wan came up to take his lips again. 

The moment Obi-wan started sucking at his jaw, some distant, still conscious, part of Jango’s brain urged him to take his chance.

“ _Ben_...” He moaned breathlessly. 

Obi-wan froze against him. Eyes tightly containing a raging fire as he pulled back to focus on Jango. 

“ _What did you just say_?” Jango did _not_ squirm before the intensity in his eyes and voice.

He didn’t answer, relishing in the smug feeling blossoming in his chest. Obi-wan grunted before kissing him bruisingly. 

“You don’t know what you are getting yourself into, _Jan’ika_.” Oh, Jango knew, he _definitely_ knew.

“ _Ben_ ,” he gasped again. Obi-wan’s hold on his hips tightened, and Jango thought his heart stopped at the growl rumbling low in Obi-wan’s chest.

“Do I have to remind you who you are talking to?” Obi-wan shifted his thigh, rubbing it against Jango crotch, he was barely able to repress a whimper. “Who is making you feel like this?”

“Be-” Obi-wan pushed his thigh away, removing any warmth or pressure . “ _Obi-wan_.” He panted.

“Better.” Obi-wan pecked his lips before stepping away completely.

Jango, groaned, sagging a little against the wall as Obi-wan took out his comm, probably to send Shmi a message they were not coming back to the ship for the night. His tousled hair was the only evidence of what they’d be doing seconds ago, but the moment his dark gaze fixed back on him, Jango saw the truth. The fire, the rage, the passion roaring in those blue-grey eyes. _This_ was the real reason why he liked Ben so much: it brought out a feral possessiveness in Obi-wan that Jango adored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I actually made it through another day/prompt????? Wow.
> 
> This is also inspired by my SpecialForces/TOG AU where No one comes back for Obi-wan after Melida/Daan and Obi-wan has a vision of the darkness and the Sith and he is determined to stop it all. Along the way he gathers quite the crew and a reputation and in the end he kicks Palpatine's ass. I'm actually quite excited about this one but it's been a while since I've had the time to write... *sigh* maybe some day...
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!!! I hope you liked it!!


	4. Forced to work together/Handcuffed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hondo Ohnaka is nothing if not resourceful. Everyone owes him a favor and he _will_ cash those favors in. Repeatedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4!!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments!!!! They really cheer me up! 
> 
> I am a little late with this one but the idea I had planned didn't really click with me so I scrapped it and improvised... 
> 
> Oh and I messed with the timeline so that the cloning project began a little earlier than in cannon… ups
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Jango would never, _ever_ , again take a job for Hondo Ohnaka. Boba could pout all he liked about not spending time with his favorite uncle but this was _never_ happening again. 

“ _Haar’chak!_ ” He cursed, firing a few bolts behind him as he dashed through the narrow halls of the ship.

Skeleton crew his _ass_. There was half a fleet cramped in the _Marauder_. He turned another corner and cursed Ohnaka’s name all over again as a shower of stun-bolts rained on him.

****  
Jango hid the hard wire he’d acquired a few roatitions ago- and that he’d been trying to form into a lock picker,- on a small gap between his pathetic excuse for a mattress and the wall as soon as he heard someone coming down to the brig. He heard shuffling and muttered curses followed by the entry of three bulky pirates, struggling to contain their raging prisoner. The pirates managed,- with notorious difficulty,- to throw the man into the cell next to Jango, reactivating the rayshield barely just in time before the man was already up and charging against them again. Jango’s new prison mate huffed in annoyance, glaring daggers at the three pirates as they left the brig. As soon as they were out the door, the man took a slow, steady breath to recenter himself. He muttered a very impressive string of curses in different languages to himself, frowning in annoyance as he examined the heavy handcuffs around his wrists. They were similar to Jango’s own stun-cuffs but they appeared to be lined with another type of steel along the edges.

“I’m working on a way to get rid of those.” Jango said, startling the stranger who turned around quickly to face him, his lips tugging downwards as if in annoyance for being caught off guard.

Jango got a better look at the stranger. There was nothing much to note about his attire, but his light copper hair and bright crystal eyes were rather captivating, especially as they scanned Jango assessingly. 

“Hello there, I’m afraid I hadn’t seen you.” His voice was soft but firm, a ridiculously posh accent tilting his words. “You had any progress with your little project?” He said as Jango reached back for the wire.

“Perhaps.” Jango answered, resuming his task distractically as he ran his eyes up and down again the man’s figure. His clothing was discrete, but it fitted him well, _very_ well. “But you are asking the big questions before even telling me your name.” He smiled cockly, as the man’s cheeks tinged slightly.

“Well,” the stranger replied, leaning an arm against the wall and crossing one leg behind the other in a lazy posture, scanning Jango again with a new glint in his eyes. “It’s not like you gave me yours.” 

“Naasade.” The man snorted at his response.

“Very well, then you can call me Ben.” The man smiled, rolling his eyes.

“That’s not your real name,” Jango said, standing up and slowly walking towards the bars separating their cells.

Closer now as he was, he could better appreciate the man’s young features. The stubble indicating the beginning of a beard barely managed to cover up his boyish appearance, even if his intense eyes gave him the gravity of his real age.

“Neither is yours Naasade.” Ben countered, stepping closer too.

“You speak Mando’a.”

“On occasion.” 

Jango held his gaze as he considered. It could come in handy to have some help in his escape plan, and this man had already proven to be quite the pain in the pirates’ plan. Giving him his real name might encourage him to work with Jango. And a small part of Jango wanted the stranger to say his name in that perfect accent of his.

“Fett.” He said after a beat. “Jango Fett.”

Something flashed across Ben’s eyes, there and gone too quickly for Jango to decipher it. Then he gave Jango a half smile and a small huff of amusement.

“Well then, in that case, I’m Obi-wan Kenobi.” He said with a short bow of his head. “My pleasure.”

“I’m sure it is.” Ben scoffed again, rolling his eyes.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Obi-wan said, leaning closer against the bars, eyes drifting to the wire Jango held in hand.

Jango was about to lean in as well when the door of the brig opened again. Captain Renih strutting down the stairs until she was in front of their cells, an unimpressed look in her eyes.

“Am I interrupting?” She said, crossing her arms. “I don’t know what Hondo expected with sending the two of you here but when you see him again I tell him he can get lost.”

“You are letting us go then?” Obi-wan asked, approaching the rayshield with measured steps. 

Renih smiled a horribly chilling grin, and turned her eyes to Jango as she answered Obi-wan.

“Of course, _jedi_.” Jango felt himself tense reflexibly at the word. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Obi-wan sighing, he turned to face him as the other man shot him an apologetic look. “But first,” Renih continued visibly satisfied with their reaction, “I thought the two of you might put on a good show for my crew.” Her shark-grin widened as she stepped closer to Jango, “He is cut out from the Force and without his lightsaber,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, inching as close as the rayshield would allow her to. “Take it as a personal favour, Jango.” She winked before stepping back to address the two of them again. “The winner gets to leave,” she turned her eyes to Obi-wan with as much unrepressed lust she’d harboured while talking to Jango. “I’ll find something _profitable_ to do with the loser… or what’s left of him anyway”

Jango considered his options. He still hated the _jetii_ with a burning passion,- he’d involved himself in a plot to destroy them after all,- but even if he beat Obi-wan to the ground- and with the way the man’s careful movements betrayed fighting awareness and experience in battle he wasn’t entirely sure he would be as easy to defeat as Renih seemed to believe,- he doubted the pirate Captain would give him back his beskar’gam, and Jango was _not_ leaving without his armour. Working with Obi-wan was still his best shot at escaping. He didn’t like it, not one bit, his skin crawled at the thought of trusting a _jetii_ , but he’d been trapped in that stinking ship for too long. Maybe he could space the _jetii_ once they escaped.

“ _Mando’ade liser digur_.” _Mandalorians_ can _forget _He growled threateningly at Obi-wan to cover the invitation, pleased to see the subtle flash of realisation in his eyes. So he really _did_ know Mando’a, huh.__

__Obi-wan turned his attention back to Captain Renih and sighed._ _

__“Isn’t there a more civilised way to settle this?”_ _

__

__***_ _

__For a man so ready to advocate for civilised solutions, Obi-wan was _vicious_. It was the single, most beautiful spectacle Jango had ever witnessed. _ _

__The moment they’ve been out of the brig, at Jango’s signal they’d attacked the captain and her escort of five, leaving them unconscious and running down the halls. Obi-wan had suggested the most probable place for Renih to be holding both his lightsaber and Jango's armour was the Captain’s quarters, so they’d tried to make their way there. Unfortunately, they’d made a bad turn and ended up at the mess hall, where twenty pirates or so interrupted their meal to stare incredulously at them for a second. Chaos ensued. Now Jango had suspected Obi-wan would be able to hold his own, but he’d grievously underestimated the man. Cut out of the force , handcuffed and weaponless Obi-wan had moved before the pirates could react, flying around the room in acrobatic kicks and punches. Hell, it even took Jango an embarrassing second before he himself could start moving._ _

__“Jango!” Obi-wan called for his attention as he decked a pirate to the ground. Jango turned to immediately catch the blaster Obi-wan had thrown at him._ _

__He blinked in surprise before mentally kicking himself back into action. They pushed themselves to the mess hall’s other exit. Jango held the door with blaster fire as Obi-wan quickly fiddled with the controls managing to shut the door close._ _

__They ran through the halls, dealing with the much weaker resistance they encountered, until they reached what were obviously the captain’s quarters. As they’d suspected, inside they found both his armour and Obi-wan’s lightsaber, which he used to cut through their handcuffs. As he fitted his armour, Jango thought he saw Obi-wan grab something else, but in their haste, he paid little attention to it ._ _

__Soon after, they were running down the halls again, this time making their way to the hangar. They made quite the effective pair, Obi-wan deflecting all enemy fire while Jango blasted any resistance into oblivion._ _

__“You have a ship?” he asked as they neared their target._ _

__“They blew it to near scraps before I could board.” Obi-wan answered, above the sound of blaster fire, twirling his lightsaber with an elegant twist of his wrist. “How rude of you to alert them I was coming.” He added throwing Jango a playful grin, he rolled his eyes behind his buy’ce, amused. “You owe me a ride really.”_ _

__Jango snorted as they finally came into the hangar. Before he could answer, however, he felt something grip at wrist with a _click_. He looked down to find himself handcuffed to Obi-wan._ _

__“What the-”_ _

__“I’m sorry Jango.” Obi-wan said , eyes full of genuine guilt. “But you are not leaving without me.”_ _

__Jango was about to shout in protest but more pirates started appearing by the hangar doors._ _

__“ _Haar’chak_!” He cursed dragging them both towards _Slave I_ dodging blaster bolts._ _

__***_ _

__“You didn’t even pick up the key!” In hindsight, Obi-wan probably should’ve thought this through a little better. He’d just grabbed the coughs and then ran with Fett down the halls. He hadn’t realised the handcuffs were designed to create a force field around once locked that could only be broken by the exact key; Obi-wan’s lightsaber was useless against them. _Pirates this days_._ _

__“Well, the whole _point_ of the matter was that you wouldn’t try to leave me behind or space me.” He replied calmly, entertaining himself the flashes of hyperspace through the viewport. In truth, he was desperately trying to distract himself from the fact that he was practically sitting on Jango’s lap due to the awkward position they had to get themselves in for Jango to take off the ship with their hands cuffed._ _

__“Why in all hells would I do that?!” Jango said, visibly exasperated. He landed a hand on Obi-wan’s thigh but immediately caught himself and pulled away as if he’d touch fire._ _

__“You are _Jango Fett_.” He answered, throwing Jango a flat look. “You are not particularly known for friendliness towards Jedi.”_ _

__“That may be but-”_ _

__“Not that I blame you, mind you.” Obi-wan said squirming a little, trying to find a more comfortable position, for some reason that made Jango freeze under him. Obi-wan shifted again and Jango groaned. Had he been hurt? Obi-wan’s Soresu was still a work in progress but he’d thought he’d done a good job with the pirates. He shiftted again, trying to get a better look of Jango, see if he was injured, but the mandalorian gripped his hip tightly, stopping his movements. “Jango?”_ _

__“Argh, let’s get out of here.” Jango muttered in a low growl, guiding Obi-wan up and off his lap, then to the main living space of the ship._ _

__Obi-wan took a moment to admire the engineering, how the ship had rotated around this area as it’s axis. Fascinating, really. Jango tugged them to sit at the side bench. The mandalorian sat down with a groan, taking his helmet off then closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall._ _

__“No need to be so dramatic, really.” Obi-wan said, because he refused to let the awkwardness of the situation win. _Force_ , he really should’ve thought this through better. “Once we reach Florrum, I’m sure our mutual friend will be more than happy to assist us.”_ _

__Jango snorted. “Oh, he better."_ _

__Obi-wan relaxed a little, seeing the mandalorian more at ease, it was a good look on him- Obi-wan was just being objective. Jango opened one eye to shoot him a curious glance._ _

__“How the hell did a _jetii_ end up running errands for Ohnaka?”_ _

__Obi-wan allowed himself to chuckle a little._ _

__“How indeed.” He said, shaking his head. Jango leaned forward , resting his forearms on his knees and turning to give Obi-wan his full attention, challengingly raising an eyebrow. Obi-wan sighed. “I owed him a favour.”_ _

__“How so?” Jango prodded again._ _

__Obi-wan looked away, focusing on his boots._ _

__“My padawan’s birthday was a few months ago, I wanted to get him something nice.” He smiled to himself, remembering Anakin’s pure glee and excitement at the different parts and tools Obi-wan had set up in a small workshop he’d built in their quarter's meditation room._ _

__“I thought _jetii_ didn’t care much for gifts?” Jango said, breaking him from his thoughts._ _

__“Oh, we don’t generally.” Birthdays were celebrated in the Temple, Obi-wan had been to his fair share of good parties, but it’s true that once you became a padawan, well gifts just weren’t a thing they did, the jedi left the presents to the younglings in the crèches. But it had been Anakin’s first birthday as a jedi, his first birthday away from his mother, and he’d been working so hard and doing so well, Obi-wan was so very proud of him… Obi-wan was far from the perfect master, he often felt like he was failing Anakin, there were so many things he himself still didn’t know or understand, how was he supposed to _teach_ them? There were a great many deal of things Obi-wan couldn’t give Anakin,- answers, expertise,- but he could give him _this_. “He deserved a treat.” He shrugged_ _

__“A treat that you had to go and ask a pirate for help?” Jango snorted in amusement._ _

__“He is a _very_ particular boy,” Obi-wan laughed. Hondo had been the only way to get all the fancy prototypes and tools Anakin had been rambling about how he would love to experiment with. “What about you?” he said meeting Jango’s deep chocolate eyes, “How come a fearsome bounty hunter ended up working for the single most ridiculous individual I’ve ever met?”_ _

__Jango’s stare intensified for a moment, eyes flaring gold before he smiled and leaned back against the wall again._ _

__“My boy, Boba, wandered off the ship on one of my hunts.” Jango answered with a sigh. “Ohnaka found him and looked after him while I was busy.” He snorted. “I’m half-convinced he would’ve ran off with him and then demanded a ransom from me if I hadn’t found them as quickly as I did.”_ _

__Obi-wan chuckled. “Oh, I don’t think so. Hondo might be ridiculous but he doesn’t have a deathwish.” He shook his head, leaning back against the wall mimicking Jango’s position. “What were you _thinking_? Taking a _child_ to one of your hunts?” He said in fake-reprimand after a beat of, surprisingly comfortable, silence._ _

__Jango laughed, gasping in mock offense. “It was an _easy_ mission. It _builds character_.”_ _

__“And it gets you associated with the likes of Hondo Ohnaka.”_ _

__“This from the man that got his _ad contraband_ for his birthday?”_ _

__“It was not contraband!” It was Obi-wan’s turn to fake outrage._ _

__Their laughter faded into the hum of the engines. Force, but Obi-wan was tired. Being cut off the Force was never pleasant, and it always left him drained. He didn't even realise he had been leaning towards Jango until he felt cold beskar against his cheek. The feeling got him bolting straight up in his seat, startling an also-drowsing Jango._ _

__“Sorry.” He muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up and hating his pale complexion._ _

__Jango shot him a look Obi-wan couldn’t quite decipher before sighing and standing up, pulling Obi-wan with him from where they were handcuffed together._ _

__“Help me out of my armour.” Jango said with a yawn._ _

__“Wha- _Excuse me_?” Obi-wan sputtered._ _

__“Look, we are both tired, we have a week’s trip ahead of us to Florrum and, as much as I love my armour, I rather not be spending the entirety of our journey in it.” Jango replied nonchalantly, but Obi-wan noticed the mandalorian was pointedly avoiding his eyes. That only added to the heat in Obi-wan’s cheeks._ _

__To strip a mandalorian from their armour was… a _delicate_ endeavour. But Jango was unfortunately right._ _

__“Hey, it was you that handcuffed us together.” Jango tried to brush away the sudden awkwardness with a weak smile._ _

__Obi-wan mentally kicked himself. He was making things awkward and making Jango uncomfortable. Force. He frowned exaggeratedly._ _

__“I had _very valid_ reasons.” With Jango huffing out a more relaxed laugh, Obi-wan gave him a small smile and started undoing clasps._ _

__Jango stopped giving him instructions the moment he realized Obi-wan actually knew what he was doing. It had been quite a while since his trip to Mandalore but the movements came easily to him. He got lost in the familiarity of it all, not noticing the silence that had settled between them until he’d stood back up after kneeling to get all the different pieces of leg armour off Jango. When he did, he found himself extremely close to Jango, barely a breath between them, he couldn’t suppress the little gasp that escaped him. Jango had an imposing figure even out of his armour, he’d known this since he’d seen him in the brig, but from up close, and wearing the tight body underglove, the breadth of his shoulders and his firm, perfectly defined chest were even more impressive. And his _eyes_. Jango’s eyes had a sudden feral light to them, fires flickering gold within the amber expanse. Obi-wan gulped. It was going to be a very long trip to Florrum, he realized, suddenly feeling _very_ awake._ _

__He really should’ve thought this through more carefully._ _

__***_ _

__“Ah! My friends! It’s good to see you again!” the great Hondo Ohnaka greeted his dear Jedi and angry-mandalorian friends. _Did they know about each other?_ “Got a bit tangled there now haven’t you?” He said pointing at where they were handcuffed together, then laughed at his own joke. It was a very good joke._ _

__The angry-mandalorian seemed very ready to come and punch his face in, and what a pity that would be, Moma Ohnaka had done a very good job in creating Hondo. Curiously, the Jedi held angry-mandalorian back with a light tug on his arm and that seemed enough to restrain Fett. _Huh_. Ohnaka had always liked Kenobi, good boy he was._ _

__“We would appreciate a little help in that regard, Hondo.” Always so polite that Kenobi._ _

__“Of course, of course.” He waved a hand around at his very faithful crew. “Someone get us a locksmith, quick! The best locksmith for my very good friends who have retrieved what I asked of them, yes?” He said turning back to them._ _

__Fett growled._ _

__“You said the ship would be _almost empty_ , Hondo.” Oh, Hondo did not like the tone of that voice, far too aggressive._ _

__Before he could wave the Mandalorian off, however, Kenobi held Fett back again with just a gentle touch to the elbow. How interesting._ _

__“Here, Hondo.” Kenobi said, handing him a small green box , sighing._ _

__“Oh, oh! I knew I could count on you!”_ _

__“What is in there anyway?” Fett asked, there was no need to sound so annoyed, Kenobi was doing a far much better job at hiding it._ _

__“Like Moma Ohnaka used to say, my dear friend: When your ex-wife steals half your crew and your favourite ship, steal her favourite jewels!” He said opening the box to show a pair of identical rings of beskar with fine lines of kyber crystals intertwined._ _

__Hondo allowed himself a smug smile at the twin looks of wonder on his two very dear friends, and then a thought occurred to him. Ah, great minds like Hondo’s never stop surprising, not even Hondo himself._ _

__“You take them, my friends.” Hondo’s grin widened at their gaping expressions. “As my dear moma also used to say: If you want it to hurt even more, give the jewels away so that when she comes back uninvited you can just tell her you gave them away, not wanting to keep anything that had been corrupted by her touch.” He added a little dramatic flare for the effect of it all, but the point got across just fine._ _

__Fett shot him a suspicious look, ah, _that_ was why he liked Fett. That, and his little murder child, Hondo had a soft spot for kids, nobody is perfect._ _

__“We take them, but we are even Ohnaka.”_ _

__“Apahpahpahpahpahpah” He said waving his hand around. “Just take it as a thank you for your service from your very dear friend."_ _

__If Fett wanted to believe they were even then Hondo would allow it, at least for now. The truth was, they were both still _very much_ in Hondo’s debt if the way the two mighty warriors shyly looked at each other as they exchanged rings and then left in the same ship,- even when Hondo had offered Kenobi a ride,- was anything to go by. Yes, yes, Hondo had done them both a great service by getting them together, and he hadn't even been trying. Hondo never ceased to impress himself. Yes, they were still very much in his debt._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I saw the prompt for the day was Forced To Work Together but then I discovered the _alternative_ prompt was Handcuffed and my mind instantly supplied me with that one(1) gif of Miguel and Tulio from El Dorado going "Both?" "Both." "Both is good." And so this happened.
> 
> Let me know what you think!!!


	5. Competence Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan would master any skill he set his heart to. It just took some time for some more than others. 
> 
> Jango is here to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5!!!!
> 
> It took my waaaaaaaaaay too long to decide what to write for this... it ended up being far softer than what I would've expected and the competence kink is more implied than central... oh well
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!!!

Obi-wan was an utterly ridiculous man.

Jango had seen him tear apart men with words, cutting sharp like a vibroblade. When he fought, Obi-wan moved with the grace of leaves drifting in the breeze and the power of the seas roaring at a storm in defiance. With a rifle, a blaster or a pistol, Jango knew Obi-wan’s aim would be always true and in hand-to-hand combat, his agility and endurance boosted his ability and technique making him a fiercely vicious opponent. Jango had also seen Obi-wan soothe away pains with a smile, and reassure broken souls with a touch. As a teacher Obi-wan was patient and encouraging, in a team he was the voice of reason and the beskar shield of protection. 

Jango knew Obi-wan could, kick, punch, fire, shoot, heal and teach with the same ease as he flirted with everything and anyone, or breathed. Many admired him for his skills, others resented him; Jango thought them all fools. Obi-wan was _good_ at what he did, _the best_ more often than not, but it wasn’t just because the _ka’ra_ had blessed him,- as much as Jango liked to thanked them for Obi-wan’s _silver tongue_ ,- but because Obi-wan had _worked_ for it. So many would just look at Obi-wan and see the kyber crystal and not the rough wall of the cavern that had borne it. At his core, it was Obi-wan’s passion for learning and self-mastery that fueled the flames of his hard-work and determination. Every skill he now knew, he’d spent hours learning, practicing and perfecting; Jango loved him even more for it. 

It was a spectacle to see Obi-wan undertake a new task. The way he frowned slightly in concentration and so diligently applied himself to his work captivated Jango. Of course, Obi-wan’s passion for learning in general, meant the skills he set out to master were not always those used in combat; sometimes Obi-wan would devout himself to the study of different flora and fauna, or the cultural traditions of different planets,- Jango had once sat through an entire night of Obi-wan passionately rambling about the different types of minerals in the Alderaanian sea bed, and he’d smiled fondly through it all,- it still enthralled Jango’s soul.

Years of avid study had, however, allowed Obi-wan to learn the best ways to pick up and retain new skills and information, meaning Obi-wan had become a _very fast_ learner. And, oh, how Jango adored seeing him fight with moves he'd just learned a few days prior, or completely destroy an argument quoting expert knowledge he’d studied,- _for fun_ -, in between hyperspace jumps; the dumbfounded expressions of his enemies, may it be in literal or verbal combat, tugged at something primal in Jango’s chest.

Nothing could stop Obi-wan once he’d set his heart into a task, and Jango had come to love that fiery passion. Which is why Jango stood at the doorway, extremely amused, watching his ridiculously competent _riduur_ fail, _spectacularly_ , at dancing. Obi-wan was a very skilled diplomat, perfectly capable of maneuvering his way through any ball or galla, but it appeared he’d abused his gift by talking himself out of dancing so oftenly, he had completely forgotten how to do it right.

“Say something and I’ll shoot you.” Obi-wan said, throwing Jango a glare when he finally noted his presence, as he continued to awkwardly shift around the improvised dancing space.

“Did I say anything?” Jango snorted in amusement.

“ _Jango,_ ” Obi-wan answered threateningly.

“I didn’t say anything!” Jango chuckled, raising his arms in defence.

Obi-wan ignored him, continuing to try,- and fail,- to learn the steps scribbled down in a flimsy. He huffed out frustrated after a couple of long minutes, using the Force in a superfluous display to stop the music. Jango took it as his cue. The best way to encourage Obi-wan, was to _dis_ courage him.

“You are being too harsh with yourself, _cyar’ika_.” He said circling his arms around Obi-wan’s waist, hugging him from behind. “The Nubian waltz is not as simple as it seems.”

Obi-wan huffed, in annoyance, escaping his embrace to grab the flimsy and taking a seat angrily on the couch, glaring at the little drawing schemes as if he could engrave them into his mind,- Jango had little doubt he probably _could_. But this was Anakin’s wedding,- a proper, _public_ one,- Jango knew Obi-wan would want to be at his very best, nitpicking details until he caused himself a headache; Jango knew a better way to perfect his skills. 

He walked up to the music player, restarting the song, before coming back to Obi-wan offering him a hand. Obi-wan raised an eyebrow but took it nonetheless, and Jango pulled him close in his arms swaying them gently to the beat of the song in careful steps. 

“I didn’t know you could dance.” Obi-wan’s voice drifted softly above the music.

“I’m a man of many talents.” Jango smiled, his grin only widening when Obi-wan rolled his eyes as Jango led them into a twirl. “Arla taught me.” He said quietly after another beat of music. “She loved old, period holo-dramas.” He smiled at the memory and saw his fondness reflected in Obi-wan’s clear blue eyes.

It didn’t take long for Obi-wan’s shoulders to relax, his gaze leaving their feet on the floor to focus solely on Jango, he was a fast learner after all. Jango couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps the dip at the final beat of the song wasn’t entirely traditional to the Nubian waltz, nor was the kiss that followed, but Jango couldn't care less. Obi-wan wasn’t complaining either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this AU, Everybody Lives [except Papatine] Nobody Dies [except Palpatine], Jango and Obi-wan met when they were younger, have been disgustingly in love for ages being the galaxy's #1 power couple, and Anakin is still awkward and gets married in secret until Obi-wan discovers him and shakes some sense into him. Cue best-man!Obi-wan who is nervous about the dancing ceremony at the wedding.
> 
> I literary spent the whole day thinking about what I could write and hating every single idea. In the end this won because I started writing late and I got soft. I did write this instead of sleeping so sorry for any typos/spelling mistakes.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!!!


	6. Fix-it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless promo, this is inspired by my _Whispers of change_ fix-it fic...
> 
> For context: Ben Kenobi, after dying in the Death Star, is thrusted back in time into the mind of his 5 year-old self. Poor kid doesn't really know what's going on but he gets a shit-ton nightmares and grows up with a strange presence at the back of his mind and the Force pulling him around to fix things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, _Whispers of change_ is my main project (read: baby) right now (even though it's been ages since I've updated and I keep getting distracted by other fic ideas) and is sort of this very ambitious fix-it? The following takes place after Obi-wan has already avoided some mayor catastrophes, especially concerning the Mandalorians, (Jaster has been about to adopt him about twenty times by now), so I hope this classifies for the prompt. 
> 
> *nervous fidgeting* Why am I rambling so much about this?
> 
> Oh, and I messed with the timeline (surprised gasp) so that basically Jango and Obi-wan are only 4-5 years apart and this happens near the Naboo Crisis so there's nothing fishy going on.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Jango had hated Obi-wan, even without meeting him. What was so amazing about the kid that Jaster wouldn’t shut up about him? Okay, so perhaps it was a little impressive that a 5 year-old had managed to make his way through the busy streets of Coruscant to find the Mand’alor alone, but the kid had just been lucky and reckless. And all for what? To tell Jaster to go to Concord Dawn and help Jango? Well, Jaster had already been on his way to Concord Dawn, and Jango had _not_ needed his help, he’d been happy in his farm with his parents and his sister. In fact, if Jaster hadn’t had further encouragement to go to Concord Dawn, if he hadn’t come to Jango’s house… Jango would’ve never found himself in need of Jaster’s help to begin with... Perhaps that was being a little too harsh. The kid had only been trying to help, after all; Jaster himself had argued Obi-wan’s warning to stay on the lookout had actually saved the lives of verde, and Jango had come to love Jaster just as much as he had his birth buire. But he still… Jango just didn’t understand why Jaster cared so much about the boy, sending him messages on his birthday and stopping by the Temple whenever they were on Coruscant, scarce as the occasion was. He also didn't understand why Jaster looked so _worried_ after all his visits. Was the kid not safe in the Temple? It almost made Jango curious enough to want to accept Jaster’s invitation to tag alone on his visits, he always refused anyway.

Looking back, Jango could acknowledge to himself that his weariness towards Obi-wan had been borne out of unfounded resentment and jealousy, and it had taken him far too long to let go of those emotions. But Obi-wan had hitched a ride with _pirates_ to warn them about a trap and a betrayal, he’d stood up against his own Order and the Senate to defend the True Mandalorians against treacherous schemes puppeteered by Death Watch, he’d fought at Jango’s back without even knowing it was him; Obi-wan spoke softly, but there was fire in his words, he would throw himself in front of a blaster bolt or a blade without second thought and only a stubborn, single-minded determination to _protect_ , he treasured life to the degree of trying to _reason_ with assassins and terrorists, just to find another way and not end their pitiful existence; Obi-wan could flirt with stones and make them blush but sputtered and flushed whenever he received the smallest of compliments, he cheated at sabacc,- never getting caught,- but always spoke earnestly, eyes full of genuine sincerity; and Obi-wan _listened_ , he would listen to the tales of a child with the same avid interest he would pay the mightiest of teachers, he would patiently listen your joys and worries, storing them in his heart to either share your glee or ease your burden. There was only so much Jango could do to resist Obi-wan, and at some point, uncharastically abandoning his own stubbornness, he’d given up at trying to.

Jango had decided he would instead direct his efforts to other matters concerning Obi-wan. There were shadows looming like a tempest about to break in the seas of his eyes. Fears, worries, regrets and so much _grief_ swarming him at all times and all without any apparent reason; Jango thought the emotions were almost _foreign_ to the bright young man Obi-wan rarely allowed himself to be. Jango had figured out that was why Jaster worried so much about him, Obi-wan had been like this for as long as he’d known him and Jaster had met him when he’d been barely 5. For as much as they disliked each other, both Jaster and Obi-wan’s Master shared their concern for him, they thought Obi-wan hid things and they wanted to understand, to help. But Jango had seen how Obi-wan reacted whenever anyone tried to approach the subject, the way his shoulders tensed imperceptibly, eyes tainted with reluctance and dread before he deflected with careful words. Jango hated the way those conversations made Obi-wan retreat even further into himself, the flickering glint in his eyes drowned by the solemn darkness. And so Jango had decided he wouldn’t give two karks about the things Obi-wan hid. He was curious, he wanted to understand and to help too, but not at the cost of losing the spark in his eyes that was purely, unadulterated, _him_ , untainted by the other shadows looming there. Instead, Jango concentrated his efforts in nurturing that flame, stoking the fire that struggled to blaze. He would challenge Obi-wan into friendly sparrs then relish in the feeling of awe that overtook him as he watched him move in fight with grace and power, eyes lighting up as he shot playful taunts at Jango. He would get Obi-wan exotic snacks to see his impish curiosity shining through as he tried to guess the ingredients. Jango would visit the archives of the planet he was on after a hunt and hoard texts of obscure traditions and cultures long forgotten by time, Obi-wan had smiled so brightly when Jango had managed to acquire an actual book for him written in flimsy. And Jango would do his best to argue with Obi-wan about the most stupid things, often taking a point of view he did not share just to see the righteous passion emerge in Obi-wan’s eyes followed by fond exasperation when Jango broke into laughter and Obi-wan realised he’d been tricked into another fake argument. The shadows never fully disappeared, but they did retreat.

Obi-wan was most beautiful when his eyes sparkled, thousands of stars defying the night, just like they were at the moment. Jango had managed to sequestre Obi-wan for the day, they’d sparred and laughed and Obi-wan had given him a very enthusiastic lecture about the different calls of the varactyl as per detailed in the texts Jango had gotten him when they’d last seen each other. They’d explored a nearby town and the forest that surrounded it and followed the drifting little river that crossed it to a small lake. And then Jango had ruined it.

He blamed it on the fact Obi-wan’s hair was shining with the colours of dusk, a stray lock of copper framing his features, he blamed it on the way his eyes rivaled the night sky that would soon be upon them and the lake reflecting the last grazes of the sun, he blamed it on Obi-wan’s relaxed, content, dimpled smile. He had leaned in and ruined it- _ka’ra_ , Obi-wan’s lips were so _soft_.

Obi-wan didn’t push him away, small mercies, but he froze against Jango. He pulled away almost immediately, ready to apologise- But then Obi-wan gasped, eyes lighting up as if the thick darkness were dissolving into a light mist, fading into the background. Next thing he knew, Obi-wan was pulling him in for a clumsy kiss. Circling his arms around his hips, Jango pulled him closer, soothing Obi-wan’s franticness into a more relaxed brush of lips. They pulled apart eventually, but Jango refused to let go of his hold on Obi-wan’s waist. His eyes opened slowly to meet Jango’s own gaze, there was worry in them, and fear tainting the grey-blue expanse, but for once Jango thought he recognized them as _Obi-wan’s_ , they weren’t foreign, twisted shadows. Obi-wan looked away, the crease of his brow telling Jango the _di’kut_ was probably finding a way to overanalyze the situation and blame himself for something.

“None of that, Obi.” Jango said, cupping his cheek, warm and beautifully coloured against his skin, guiding Obi-wan’s eyes back to meet his. Obi-wan gulped but made no move to escape his hold. “I’ve told you before _jeti’ika_ : No worrying about stupid _osik_ when you are with me, your headaches are contagious.” He teased with a smile.” Obi-wan nodded, wide eyes still so gorgeously bright, Jango couldn’t help himself. “May I?” He asked, trailing his eyes down to Obi-wan’s inviting lips.

It was Obi-wan who leaned in this time, temptatively, and Jango followed his careful lead. He knew the shadows would return, he knew Obi-wan would still try to hide whatever nightmares were hunting him,- no darkness faded it so quickly permanently- but for now Jango would hold him tight and attempt to quiet the tempest in his mind as well he could. Maybe then, in the calm before the storm, Obi-wan would allow himself to share his burdens like he so often allowed others,- allowed Jango,- to do with him. Maybe then, Jango could convince him he would never have to face the darkness alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... 
> 
> I have this scene drafted on Obi's POV already but since the story as it's published hasn't reached that point yet, I thought it would be fun to write Jango's side of it.
> 
> I also tried to make this make sense on its own and without spoilers for the main story,- but are they really spoilers if its a fix-it and thus things are meant to get fixed? 
> 
> I admit I also chose to write this because I've been struggling to write the main fic's next couple of chapters but didn't want to get frustrated with it and abandon the story so this is self indulgent to motivate myself into writing. :) sorry for that
> 
> And, once again, I'm rambling...
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! I hope you liked it!


	7. Happy Ending.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango and Obi-wan are idiots. They try to fix their little oversight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to continue the story from day 2, but then I decided to improvise. I blame Hozier's song Movement, which I just discovered by watching an edit and now will be the only thing I will listen to for the foreseeable future :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Jango and Obi-wan were both idiots. How could have they forgotten something like _this_? 

In their defence, they’d been busy. First with the whole ordeal of trying to kill each other, and then they’d been distracted, Jango with his hunts and Obi-wan trying to prove he was ready to be knighted, and then, after Naboo, Obi-wan had a handful with his shiny new padawan, and when Dooku,- the bastard had thought Jango wouldn’t recognize him,- had tried to hire Jango to create _a clone army to destroy the republic and the Jedi_ , and Jango had gone with the tale to Obi-wan, well… suffice it to say trying to bring down two powerful Sith Lords and their convoluted plans to destroy the galaxy was not an easy task. But _still_ , how could’ve they forgotten _to get married_?

No matter the distance or the time spent apart, they lived in each other's hearts. Be it comm messages or holo-calls, trying to coordinate Obi-wan’s mission’s with Jango’s hunts to meet or leave small gifts behind for the other to collect; in the dark days when Obi-wan would question his worth as a Master or Jango would mourn the families he’d lost, they comforted each other; in the bright days, after Jango succeeded at a particular difficult hunt or when Obi-wan’s heart burst with pride at Anakin’s achievements, they shared their joys. _They were one together, they were one apart, they shared all._ Jango had been there as much as he could to help Obi-wan raise Anakin before they’d been able to free Shmi, and after finding the dark and remote location where Palpatine had kept his acolytes isolated and tortured, Obi-wan and him had taken them all under their wings. _They would raise warriors together._

Perhaps it had slipped their minds because they were already married in all the ways that mattered. They hadn’t really even noticed until they had been about to formalize the paperwork to adopt the children Palpatine had sequestered. The little ones had been so excited at the prospect of having their _names_ they’d chosen for themselves in _real, official_ documents; for all their short lives they’d just been _brother_ or _sister_ and a number, not meant to be real people but shadows of darkness,- it pained both Jango and Obi-wan so. But then Bail had gotten them all the forms,- really there were _so many forms_ ,- and after filling them all in they’d been denied their request because they had forgotten to submit their marriage certificate. They had promptly gone to look for it and then realized that _they didn’t have one._

They were idiots. Complete and utter idiots. 

And so they’d quickly gone to the nearest registry and cleared all the paperwork,- _so many forms,_ \- because they would _not_ postpone the adoption. But then, when all was settled, well… there was no imminent, evil threat looming over them, so maybe they could make amends for their stupidity.

Which led to their current situation, where in a private garden of Alderaan, a Jedi and a Mandalorian exchanged heartfelt vows. It wasn’t a big celebration, only them, their children, Anakin and Shmi, and their closest friends. 

“ _Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mi ba’juri verde._ ” Jango rasped softly, amber eyes flickering gold as he drowned in the endless ocean of Obi-wan’s gaze.

“ _Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mi ba’juri verde._ ” Obi-wan answered in that quiet, sincere way Jango adored so much, heart overflowing with emotions.

Jango then quietly strapped his vambrace onto Obi-wan’s forearm, eyes never leaving the other’s. Obi-wan gave him his side dagger, fine Stewjoni craftsmanship embroidering the hilt with a blue kyber crystal that was half of the one he carried in his lightsaber. Jango took it with careful hands and adjusted it on the side of his belt- he would soon be getting Obi-wan another dagger to carry as a side weapon because, with his shit luck, Obi-wan was _not_ going to run around the galaxy with only a magic glow stick. And then it was done.

They leaned into each other, their families’ cheers fading with their surroundings until it was just them, kissing softly. One, forever and always.

_“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”_

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHH HAVE I ACTUALLY MADE IT THROUGH THE ENTIRE WEEK?
> 
> This has been great fun and I'd forgotten just how much I loved writing. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos and encouragements, they've meant the world to me, seriously <3
> 
> University is starting again tomorrow (I should already be asleep) but after this week I feel soooooo motivated to right and expand on the AUs I've done for this... *sigh* I'll have to find the time, I _will_ find the time. Sleep is for the weak anyway.
> 
> Anyways, I ramble, again: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!
> 
> I hope you liked it!! See you soon (hopefully) -Dali

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
>  _ge’tal’ika_ : little red 
> 
> _Mando’ad draar digu_ : A Mandalorian never forgets
> 
>  _demagolka_ : evil person that hurts children
> 
>  _shabuir_ : jerk
> 
>  _Ne’tra gal_ : Mandalorian alcoholic drink
> 
> _shebs _: ass__
> 
> _  
> __Mandokarla_ : having the *right stuff*, showing guts and spirit, the state of being the epitome of Mando virtue_  
> _
> 
> _  
> __Manda_ : the collective soul or heaven - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit - also supreme, overarching, guardian-like._  
> _
> 
>  _Gar cuyir dush nibral_ : You are a bad looser


End file.
